


To Fan A Flame

by chararii



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, And Sarutobi should not be in charge of anything ever, BAMF Haruno Sakura, Dark, Gen, Haruno Sakura-centric, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, In which Konoha is a terrible place, Mental Health Issues, Platonic Soulmates, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tsunade tries, no relationships - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:28:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26827360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chararii/pseuds/chararii
Summary: In a world where life spans are combined between soulmates and one's first burst of chakra manifests in one's mate's signature technique, Sakura summons a snake.Konoha becomes her prison as she grows up with an executioner's axe resting against her neck and vultures circling above her head.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura & Orochimaru
Comments: 52
Kudos: 513
Collections: THE naruto fic list, Team 7 🌀, why im sleep deprived 💖✨





	To Fan A Flame

**Author's Note:**

> I started this wip months ago and now finished it in one stroke and it's not at all what it was supposed to be in the beginning. But here we are. This is kinda weird, not gonna lie.

The first six years of Sakura's life are ordinary. She's a child of two active-duty chuunin and by the time she's three, she sees more of Ayakawa-san than her own mother. Her parents love her, they say in the letters they sent but their duty to the village is sacred. Instead of being hurt or angry, Sakura nods and understands, repeats the words to herself every night. The duty to the village is sacred. She knows they don't expect it of her, would be happy to let her pursue a civilian lifestyle if only she wanted to.

But Sakura is proud of her parents and family. Is proud of having a mommy and a daddy who go out there and keep the village safe. She tells this everyone she meets because inevitably she always gets asked where her parents are.

“They're not here”, she would say.

“They're ninja and they protect us all.” Despite their nigh constant absence Haruno Kizashi and Haruno Mebuki are Sakura's greatest idols and when she grows up, she wants to be just like them. So by the time she's six years old, she enrolls herself in the academy. The desk-nin chuckles at her since she's too tiny to even properly reach the desk but accept the forms anyway and send messenger birds to the outpost her mother and father are stationed at.

Three days later and only one day after classes have officially started, they receive a response and Sakura is officially entered into the system.

What is supposed to be the best day of her life, quickly turns out to be the worst.

Soulmates are a tricky subject, truly. For civilians they don't pose much of a problem. Every child gets tested after a one week course in how to mould chakra. They might never be able to repeat the feat but it is enough for a one-time manifestation. The results of these tests are recorded and sealed in the archives, behind countless locks and doors. In a world where life spans are shared between soulmates, the identity of one's match is of utmost importance.

Growing up Sakura heard stories about neighbours, friends and families being separated from those they know and love only to be brought to a secret place where they can be kept safe. If one is unlucky enough to be bonded to a high profile shinobi or official, Konoha turns into a beautiful luxurious prison. The consequences of a broken bond and resulting halved life span can be disastrous after all. The best anyone can hope for is to have a soulmate in the same age range, so both can grow up side by side and become whoever they wish to be together. It's what her mother and father have done. Both entered the academy only two years apart.

It is what Sakura wants for herself. An age mate who also goes to the academy so they can grow strong and protect Konoha together. It's her most fervent wish and she whispers the wish over and over again as the teacher guides her to the testing room. She's nervous and her hands shake as the kind man patiently explains what she has to do. He tells her not to worry. It's a painless process. She has nothing to fear.

So Sakura takes a deep breath and does what he says. Closes her eyes, focuses on her inner self. There's power in her stomach, a deep pool of energy and she almost loses concentration in sheer joy at the discovery. Mommy and daddy said that their families aren't known for their large chakra reserves so she shouldn't be disappointed in case she doesn't have much to work with. Sakura knows that in rare cases, one's soulmate can have an influence on a person's chakra and knowing that her partner is strong makes her almost giggle in excitement.

They're going to be the strongest pair the village has ever seen and keep it safe from anything and anyone!

She holds firm onto this belief and, empowered by her hopes and dreams, dips into the pool and grasps its essence, moves it through her body only to finally push it through her hands. A puff of smoke signals her success and she's beyond proud of herself. Most people need more than one try to successfully conjure their manifestation.

The smoke clears and fades and in its place, is not something Sakura has expected. Her eyes go wide at the impossibly tiny bright green snakelet. It's the most adorable little thing she ever laid eyes on and she reaches out to pet it when suddenly, strong fingers close themselves around her wrist. The grip is strong enough to hurt and she whimpers in pain as she stares at the kind teacher who is not as kind anymore. He scowls at the baby snake, then at her.

Then, in front of her eyes, he launches a kunai at the animal, cleaves it right in two. Sakura gasps and attempts to reach out once more when between one blink and the next, masked shadows enter the room. One of them is behind her and restrains her, not at all fazed by her panicked struggles.

She cries out, begs to be released, they're too rough and it hurts and why are they treating her like this, what's going on?

They don't answer, Sakura feels a sting at the back of her neck and soon after passes out.

She wakes to loud voices and angry yelling. Her head pounds and her body feels sluggish. She can't see where she is, the darkness clouding her vision is too thick. The voices get louder and louder until she can't bear it anymore and clamps her hands over her ears. Suddenly, silence reigns and she cowers in fear upon realising that they are aware of her now. Sakura doesn't know who they are, all she knows is that they still and probably stare at her.

“Just kill her and be done with it.” Fear races through her veins as she stills, unable to move or even breathe. No way, she tries to tell herself. She's still in Konoha isn't she? Or did someone abduct her? Is she with the enemy? She's just a child why would they take her? She bites her lip and forces her eyes shut to stop herself from crying. Sakura is the daughter of two brave chuunin and wants to be a shinobi herself. She mustn't show weakness. Tears run down her cheeks nevertheless.

“With all due respect, she is six years old-”

“We have waited long enough for her to show up. If her life is forfeit, we lose all leverage against him!”

“It's only a matter of time before he finds out and what do you think he's going to do to this village? We have to get rid of her.”

Sakura's breath shudders and stops as panic fills her mind and clouds her senses. They're talking about her. About killing her. She's... she's a child, why would they...?

“There's no evidence she's linked to him. Mitarashi summoned a snake herself and ended up never finding her match. It could be the girl.”

Her soulmate. They talk about her _soulmate_. She shivers violently but tries not to draw any attention to herself as her heart beats almost painfully in her chest. Sakura has a soulmate and it's enough of a reason for her own village – because it has to be, nobody else even knows – to consider murdering her. All the tales her parents told her shatter and turn to dust in front of her eyes. She's going to die young and alone, in this dark damp place, away from her family and everything she ever knew. Fat salty tears stream down her face as she can't keep them away anymore.

“Enough! This young girl is just that. I will not murder an innocent for circumstances beyond their control.”

Through her muffled crying, Sakura hears approaching footsteps and startles violently. She gets to her knees and scrambles away from the noise, blind and _terrified_ -

“Calm, child. I promise not to harm you.” She doesn't trust the man, refuses to be an easy target. She may not have had any actual classes yet but her parents knew the worth of teaching their daughter basic self-defense. She stills and waits for him to come closer. When he does, she lunges.

Sakura struggles against his hold on her arms, kicks out with her legs and tries to come close enough to bite. He's stronger than her and she can't harm him.

“You will regret not having killed her when you still had the chance.” Sakura catches a single glimpse of the bandaged man half-hidden in the shadows before green envelops her vision and she, once again, passes out.

She is not returned to her parents. Wherever she is when Sakura wakes she is in a small apartment and is stared at by an adult woman with spiky purple hair and pupilless brown eyes. The woman doesn't like her; that becomes apparent within seconds of meeting her. She has little more than cold glances, sneers and unkind words for Sakura who can't help but cry because she's alone and terrified. The woman hates it when she cries. Sakura soon learns to stop.

She's not allowed back to the academy. She tries to ask questions but receives no answers. The food she gets is bland but it's better than nothing. The only interaction Sakura gets that's not the woman who seems less and less like she wants to be in her presence, are the masked men and women that drag her to the training grounds. It's where she spends most of her time now and it's hell on earth.

They attack her with genjutsu, ninjutsu, their fists and their weapons. It's not torture. Training, they call it. Skill assessment. Sakura is six years old, hasn't had a single day of formal education, and is thrown into the ring with people infinitely stronger than her who attack her over and over again, waiting for something Sakura can't provide.

It takes her three months. Three months of an aching body, quiet tears shed at night, nigh constant scorn directed at her. They take her to the underground arena and Sakura is tired, hungry, so thoroughly exhausted that she forgets herself, forgets who she is and what she is like. She's not one to get angry or lash out. But when she does, the consequences are a sight to behold.

There's fire everywhere, lightning that strikes from the sky despite them being so far below the earth Sakura is constantly freezing, strong winds that tear the masks off their feet, cracks in the ground, water flooding the area out of nowhere. She is surrounded by the fury of the elements that feels, smells and tastes both like her and someone she's never met before and all she can do is bask in the intangible presence that warms her heart, calms her mind, soothes her thoughts.

Sakura loses consciousness but for the first time in three weeks, she sleeps well and with a small smile on her face.

Sakura hadn't thought it to be possible, but the woman whose name she never learned hates her more than she ever did. She doesn't talk to Sakura anymore, refuses to even look at her, stays for the exact time the masks tell her to, then leaves instantly. Grey walls are the only company she keeps these days and while they never answer, she still talks to them. They don't drag her to the arena anymore. Sakura eats, sleeps, and wonders if anyone even told her parents what is happening to her.

Wonders if they will ever tell _her_ what is happening to her.

Time passes. She loses count. Her hair grows longer, her eyes darker, her skin paler. When the old man she still remembers from the day her life irrevocably changed comes to see her, her voice scratches and hurts from disuse. He tells her that her parents died and that she will move into the orphanage, go back to the academy if she so wishes.

She has nowhere else to go, is so empty and dead inside she can't find it within herself to grieve. She nods her head and when she feels the sunlight on her skin for the first time in forever, it does little to combat the cold that clings to her like a suffocating mantle.

“Haruno will join your class. She has been trained in private for the past year and has been entered into the academy by the council.” She's quiet as she stares in front of children her age, girls and boys she met once during the entry ceremony, then never again. She knows what she looks like, that she's skinny and as white as a sheet with hair that's long and hasn't been taken care of properly. Sakura can see the looks, knows that she's too different to be welcomed. Her teacher pushes her forward and she sits down on an empty seat at the very back of the room.

Yesterday she was in her grey prison all by herself. Today she is in a room filled with people that make her skin itch and wish she was anywhere else.

Sakura faintly recalls that she was enthusiastic about the academy, once. That she looked forward to learning and growing stronger so she and her soulmate could safeguard the village. She remembers this like one would remember a distant relative one once met during childhood, then never again. There's no emotion in those memories, no attachment. Sakura has a hard time being attached to anything.

She is scolded for her lack of attention more than once until the teachers give up and allow her to stay in the background. One girl attempts to reach out, one with pale eyes and dark hair but Sakura doesn't react to her, ignores her until she stops trying. Another girl, one with hair so purple it triggers feelings of both anger and fear, corners her after class and attempts to shove her into the dirt.

Sakura can't control her reaction. A month into her career as ninja and she nearly kills a girl by burning her alive.

They don't talk to her. She doesn't talk to them. Sakura is an outsider that exists alongside others and after her suspension from training spars has passed, one that consistently gets paired with a blonde boy that nobody seems to like either. They don't mesh well and their entire relationship is one of Sakura beating him over and over again.

It's not her strength that's her selling point, or even her tactics. Not even her massive pool of chakra and instinctive handle on all kinds of elemental jutsu. No, what gets her through spars against whatever opponent they throw at her, what makes her succeed time and time again, is the fact that she vividly recalls the masks and what they've done to her.

Underneath the anger and the detachment, sits sheer unadulterated fear. Sakura's reaction to what terrifies her is violence. She breaks arms, legs, burns skin and hair, causes cuts and bruises alike. She can't stop the flashbacks, can't stop seeing the face- and emotionless masks whenever someone comes at her. To her, there are no training spars. Every altercation is a fight to the death.

She's by far the strongest student the academy has seen in decades but nobody but her can feel the knife that rests against her throat every second of every minute of every hour of every day.

Years pass and while Sakura gets better in some ways, she gets worse in others. She warms to one of her classmates because Kiba has a dog and she likes animals better than people. He thinks he's weird though and doesn't hang around her until one day she feeds Akamaru a small piece of meat and suddenly she's 'ok' in the Inuzuka's book. His mother tries to keep them apart but there's little she can do, truly. They're not the best of friends and Kiba finds her too weird most days but she loves Akamaru and that's all he needs.

Her position at the top of the class is consistent. Sakura doesn't study much but knowledge comes to her easily and she holds this faint hope that if she does well enough the masks will never bother her again. They do follow her, all the time and no matter where she goes. They're a constant itch on her skin, a shudder than runs down her back, giving her the urge to run so far they can't find her anymore.

When she's nine, Sakura has mostly unlearned to react to combat with the intensity of a wartime veteran. She learns temperance and some small amount of calm from the kind teacher that doesn't give her looks like the others do. Most of his time and effort is spent on Naruto but some of it is just for her. The number of accidents she causes drops dramatically.

The orphanage isn't nice, nowhere near the precious memories she has of her early childhood but it's better than grey floors, grey walls and grey ceiling so Sakura is thankful for the bed, the creaky wooden floors and the faint hints of chakra that rest in the other children, even the civilian ones.

But Sakura doesn't sleep much. She fails every single psych eval. She feels hunted and watched. Konoha doesn't love her and while once upon a time it was her first love, Sakura has long forgotten what that even feels like anymore.

It happens when she is ten. Sakura's knowledge that her soulmate, whoever they are, is a _bad_ person is personal. She's aware of it and so are the masks and the old man. Still, it's a secret. Until it really, really isn't. She thinks nothing of the silence on her way to the academy. Doesn't worry about the looks she draws. Sakura's always been stared at after all since she's small and scrawny, ghostly pale and has hair that touches her thighs. It is when she enters her classroom that she stops. Their eyes rest on her and they're dark, angry, distrustful.

“We don't want you here, dirty snake!” It's Ami, the girl she set on fire once, who spits these words at Sakura. She doesn't expect anyone to defend her but Kiba refuses to meet her eyes and that's all she needs to know. Someone told them, all of them, and Sakura can spot a single flash of white and red outside the window.

“Just go back to the hole you crawled out of and leave us alone!” It's another girl, one of Ami's friends.

“Traitor!”

“Rat!”

“Creep!”

“Monster!”

The word rings in her head, an endless chorus of 'Monster, Monster, Monstermonstermonster'-

Red hot fire burns bright before she even realises it and through the panicked screams, Sakura spots the blur of white and red. It's the last thing she sees before a hand sharply connects with her neck and her world turns black.

When she wakes to grey, Sakura forgets herself. She's blind and deaf to the world around her, drowning in panic and memories as her own power runs haywire, nearly consuming the small room _that still has the scratches she caused with her fingernails so many years ago_ -

Her skin is red and covered in blisters, most of her hair is singed and her throat is filled with smoke when the masks open the door and take her away. A sharp sting in her arm has her feel tired and sluggish, unable to think or act while her mind is suffocating with despair and sheer desperation. They strap her to a cold metal table and while they treat her, they are not gentle. Sakura barely feels any pain but wishes she did, anything to make her feel more than the helplessness that is being at the mercy of the masks with her power, her only defence, slumbering and locked away.

When she twitches, they immediately stab her with a needle again. She fades in and out of consciousness, loses all track of time. She's asleep a lot and what they could be doing to her while she's unconscious terrifies her so much she refuses to think about it.

Eventually, she has no idea when, she wakes up to familiar grey. Sakura doesn't lose control this time. She feels the stirrings but just before her power can escape through her skin, a sharp pain races through her body, nearly rendering her immobile. She doesn't try again and spends what could be minutes, hours or weeks curled up on the metal bed with only a ratty blanket she remembers from when she was six years old shielding her from the cold.

Soon, it's like the years she spent in relative freedom never existed in the first place. Not much later, she has forgotten all about them.

They give her food. Water. A fresh blanket when the first has too many holes to be serviceable. She forgets what fresh air smells like. She forgets what sunlight feels like. When her hair has reached her ankles, she has forgotten why she's locked away in the first place.

One day, the food and water stop. The only thing still keeping her alive is the power she can't access but that sustains her body anyway.

When she sees the woman with the pale hair and the fury of the gods in every single fibre of her body, Sakura doesn't believe she's real, considers her a figment of her imagination. It wouldn't be the first time. It is when the woman reaches for her, gentle, _warm_ fingers making contact with her bare skin, that Sakura's mind crumbles to pieces. She doesn't move or react, allows the woman to poke and prod at her while she yells and rages at the masks behind her.

It is when she tries to pull her off the bed that life finds its way back into her bones and Sakura scrambles backwards, back pressed against the wall, arms slung around her legs. The woman speaks softly, a harsh contrast to the murder dripping from her lips whenever she so much as looks at the masks. Sakura hears but doesn't listen. When the woman tries to come closer again, Sakura grabs the blanket and holds it between them as if to shield herself.

When she looks into the woman's face again, she sees something she can't name. It's sad but not. It's warm in a different way, one she could remember if only she tried hard enough-

“Sakura,” the woman says and she doesn't react to a name she hasn't heard in years. Not until the woman slowly kneels down in front of her, hands in her lap, palms pointing towards the sky.

“That's your name. Do you remember it?” She takes her in, moves from the relaxed posture to the emptiness in her eyes to the hands that are non-threatening, opening her up to attack. Sakura nods.

“I am Tsunade.” It means nothing to her so she doesn't answer.

“I am the new Hokage of the village. I'm here to let you out.” ...out? Her confusion must be showing on her face for the woman looks pained and clenches her hands to fists while biting her lip.

“You're not a prisoner. What they did to you was wrong. I'm putting a stop to that.” She both understands and not but when the woman reaches for her once more, she doesn't flinch. Green meets brown, jade to honey, as she allowed the woman to use her minty hands on Sakura, hands that take away the pain. When the pressure in her chest fades, all at once and without warning, Sakura gasps and snaps for air as if she was suffocating and only just realised it.

“I removed your chakra seal,” the woman mutters quietly and moves her hand over Sakura's forehead. The headache is gone as quickly as it appeared. She feels more awake now, more aware, is able to fully take in the person in front of her. This time it is Sakura who extends her hands and brushes spindly fingertips against soft skin, strong cheekbones, runs her fingers through silky hair. Touching her feels like touching fire. Her warmth sears Sakura's icy wastes but like a moth to a flame, she is drawn to her. The woman indulges her, doesn't back away, allows Sakura to explore her until her curiousity is sated.

“Let's get you out of here,” the woman declares softly once Sakura's hands retreat and slowly, to give Sakura enough time to retreat, moves her arms under her knees and back, lifts her in the air and carries her. The masks are gone now and Sakura allows herself to go limp, to surrender to the strain she's feeling. They don't speak, don't exchange words and it is upon coming to a stand in front of a thick metal door, that the woman stops.

“Close your eyes. It's bright outside.” Sakura does as she says but no amount of words could have prepared her for fresh air, a warm sun, the blinding light, the smell of trees, forest and life-

The world goes dark once more.

Sakura opens her eyes and the woman is there. She's not happy about it but finds relief all the same. The walls and ceilings are not gray so Sakura takes a deep breath and instead of the expected stale coldness, is met with fresh warmth. It's so different, so eerie, she takes another breath and another and another-

“Slow down. You're hyperventilating.” Her mouth snaps shut. She notices how fast her heart beats, how sweaty her palms are, how blurry her sight. The woman places a single fingertip on her wrist and all three lessen in intensity. She... she wants...

“Show me,” she rasps and forcing the words out of her mouth physically hurts so much she clutches her throat. The woman hands her a glass and Sakura gulps down the water, spilling liquid all over the soft fluffy blanket covering her naked body. There's tubes attached to her but Sakura doesn't mind them, doesn't tug at or try to remove them. They itch a little, sting almost. It helps ground her.

“I'm a medic-nin. It takes a lot of time and practise to study medicine and healing.” Sakura shakes her head and repeats:

“Show me.” This woman can take the pain away and Sakura needs to, has to learn how to do that herself. She doesn't quite trust this, doesn't quite trust her, and she tasted freedome before being locked away before. If it happens again she wants to be able to take the pain away too.

“Your chakra was sealed for three years, you're malnourished, received almost no formal training, trying to teach you anything right now is a terrible idea.” Something old and forgotten surges through her veins and while Sakura can't name what she's feeling, she recognises it and embraces it. The curtains to her right spontaneously combust into flames and the woman curses before directing her palms at the fire and extinguishing it with a stream of water. Once the fire is gone, she squints at Sakura who doesn't move, doesn't react at all.

“He used to do that too when he was angry.” Sakura blinks at the woman, tilts her head in question. She snorts and raises her brows before elaborating:

“Your soulmate. Orochimaru.”

She has a name to the faceless stranger whose very existence has determined hers and despite everything she went through, it feels _right_.

They keep her in the hospital for weeks during which Sakura meets a woman called Shizune who's always kind, no matter how many times things around Sakura mysteriously break or go up in flames. She can't control herself and that's natural, Shizune says. It's what happens after too much time of having one's chakra sealed. It happens more often when she is angry which Sakura also cannot control.

With every day that passes her body grows stronger but what rests inside her head changes little. She gets angry sometimes, is quiet and withdrawn during other times, is detached and unresponsive when she has a particularly bad day. Her only visitors are Shizune and the woman who is called Tsunade but who will forever remain the woman to her.

Eventually, she is released and brought to a warm and homey house that is her new home, they say. They both live there and Sakura needs to be kept under observation. The word triggers a wind so strong it knocks several shinobi above them out of the air. 'Observation' joins an ever-growing list of words that are forbidden around Sakura. There are no masks around Sakura. They follow the woman, she feels them no matter how far away they are but they always disperse and vanish when Sakura comes just close enough.

“Orders or not, they willingly treated an innocent child-like a war criminal. If they get too close to you I will punch them with my own fists.” Sakura has seen the woman punch a tree, obliterate it to little more than dust and splinters. She nods upon hearing the explanation. There are no accidental fires that day.

Two months after meeting the woman for the first time, Sakura asks her to teach her again. She keeps asking until she is saddled with a written exam that is required of all aspiring med-nin. She fails and while nobody is surprised by that, least of all herself, Sakura grits her teeth and insists being allowed to take the practical exam as well. She fails that one, too. Still, she watches the woman, burns the image of mint green energy into her brain and every night recalls the image, the feel, the hum. A month later she insists on retaking the exam. Sakura still fails the written portion but when the time to revive the fish comes, Sakura's hands glow green and the animal snaps for air.

“I honestly don't know what's you and what's him. I've never seen such an extreme case of spillover. Your parents had small chakra reserves, average control... Orochimaru has a lot of chakra but his control has always been shit. So that one's all you,” the woman ponders as she stares at Sakura, various files in front of her. She catches a glimpse of a photo of a man with long dark hair but before she can look properly, the woman sighs and moves the papers out of reach.

“You have no formal education to speak of but you're talented. A quick study, even if your methods are barbaric. Your natural control is off the charts no matter how little you use it and you have the chakra reserves and nature of your soulmate.” The woman stops and sends Sakura a wry grin.

“You could be terrifying.” Sakura takes the word and moves it around her brain, tastes and feels it, then comes to the conclusion that she doesn't want it. No matter how abstract and ridiculous, the expression of the woman's face tells Sakura that she's fully aware of the conclusion Sakura reached.

“You want to learn medical jutsu? Fine. I'll teach you.” Sakura has forgotten how to smile but if she hadn't, she thinks that she would do it.

She runs into a boy with a dog on her way to the sake bar where Shizune said the woman was hiding. Something nags at her memory but try as she might, Sakura cannot access it. The boy stops and stares, then whispers:

“Sakura? I thought you were dead.” She stares at him but can't recall his name so she doesn't think he matters. She still pets the dog before she leaves him behind.

“He'll come for you, one day. What are you going to do when he does?” Sakura shrugs because she stopped entertaining what-ifs long ago.

The fires come back. Sakura doesn't understand why. She gets angry sometimes but it feels disconnected, the like fury isn't really her own. The woman notices. She doesn't grow distant but Sakura feels honey on her more often than not and it reminds her of the masks. More fires. A vicious cycle. Fire. Water. Earth. Wind. Lightning. She's all of them and some days the power in her body threatens to choke her until she runs to the training grounds and completely obliterates her surroundings.

The world changes, ends for some, but really begins for Sakura, when she is sixteen. It announces itself in a faint hint of electricity in the air, a heavy sense of power in the earth, a strong current of energy that hangs over the village like a cloak. The woman is wary, knows something Sakura doesn't, and the sudden presence of the masks only reaffirms her beliefs.

The ground shakes as does the civilian district, both crumbling under the weight of the giant snake that clots out the sun. Sakura feels it in every cell of her body, every single hair, from her fingertips to the bottom of her feet and everywhere in between. She doesn't know this snake, has never met it before, but it's hers and she knows it.

“Don't,” the woman warns Sakura, just once, before she leaves to join the fight. There's monsters in the village now, name- and faceless creatures that slaughter those who stand in their way. Sakura doesn't heed her words. The pull she feels is too strong, the red string she can almost see with her own eyes that connects her to someone far away, too tempting.

She knows why the snake is here, why _he_ has come. She knows this and more. She breaks into a sprint and when the masks attempt to intercept her, Sakura doesn't even look at them before they all turn to ash, burned to a crisp.

When she finds him, he is surrounded by rubble and corpses. Her eyes are fixated on his form, tall and willowy, elegant and spidery, thin and angular, sharp and cutting and- Eerie yellow eyes capture her own jade ones and once they meet, Sakura feels like the ground beneath her feet shifts. She loses her balance, topples and is just about to fall when he is right there behind her, steadying her with his arms.

“Child,” he says and his voice is raspy and dark, carries the promise of violence and death, of power and wrath, so deeply saturated in all the color that's missing from Sakura's life in grey.

“Sakura,” she replies, quietly and when he turns her around to look at her once more, she stares back, calm and unflinching. She ought to fear him, knows this deep in her heart, but doesn't. Instead, there is nothing but a warm chill, a calm storm, rich grey color. They're a study in paradoxes and yet fit together seamlessly, like pieces of an intricate and beautiful puzzle.

“I will burn this place to the ground.” It's a promise, a declaration, a simple fact of life. She feels the power within herself buzz and dance as it clings to the identical cloud of energy that surrounds him and doesn't need to turn around to know that the fire that sprung up behind them is hers. She's dimly aware of the panicked screams, the sounds of battle, the slaughter happening all around her.

None of that matters. Not when he's right there and she's right here, next to him. He moves, arms wide, fingertips aglow with searing hot chakra and Sakura places a hand on his shoulder, holds him back for a mere second.

“Not the woman,” she says. He looks at her, then gives a barely noticeable nod. He doesn't need her to elaborate. He is her and she is him and they are one and he _knows_.

Konoha burns. Those who flee are not pursued. The woman is spared. Sakura takes the hand Orochimaru offers her and lets him pull her on top of the snake's giant head. He's cold to the touch but so is she. She's not sure where they're going but just like so many things in life it doesn't truly matter.

To Sakura, whose world is doused in colour and whose fire burns hotter than the sun, it never will.

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure how to feel about this, ngl. Lemme know what you think.


End file.
